O, tempestuous-hearted Son
Fallen down upon the rocky shore
Fallen down upon the rocky shore
Beat back from Heaven with burnt back
As Poseidon's waters lap at you
You fell from a mount that you so desired
Having careered too far and too fast t'ward the stars
Never knowing that light and life had incendiary breath
And would fire their fire upon you at will and smite you down
Once upon a time, you were the Son of the Sun
Wielding a starlit sword, a brand of prideful individualism
And could leap from pulsar to black hole at will
Ignoring the lashes or notions of society or knowledge
It was a glory barely known by the unilluminated
A revelation of utter freedom and complete release
You careered like a comet and knew no limits
O, tempest-son, you were more than most
Now you... now we... are here—upon the Earth
Fallen Sons of the Sun—burnt, seared, mere cinders—
Enwrapt in our own sorrow and our own loathing...
...And yet molding our eventual rise, our rightful Rebellion!
– M.M.
